


The Jester's Tale

by Joanne_Lupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanne_Lupin/pseuds/Joanne_Lupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are people who you've known for so long, and so intimately, that they become a part of you. But.. what happens when they're gone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Jester's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> No character actually dies in the fic, but I since it's about character death, I put up the warning.

George had no idea how long he's been standing there. The funeral had ended long ago, and now it was just him staring down at the tombstone:

'Fred Weasley  
1 April, 1978  
2 May, 1998  
 _Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when only one remembers to turn on the light._ '

George hadn't cried. His mother had been sobbing. So had Ginny, Hermione, and, surprisingly, Fleur. The Weasley father, too, had been crying silently, tears rolling slowly down his face. George had even spotted Harry with his face in his hands, his glasses dangling from his fingers. George could feel the hero's remorse radiating off him in waves. Afterwards, George had tried to reassure him.

"Hey, mate… Uh… I know you feel like, er, like this was your fault…but-" George swallowed hard "-it wasn't."

Harry avoided his gaze and gave a deep, shuddering sigh. He'd come out of the war looking, acting, and sounding different. Older. As if he'd been through far too many terrible things in far too little time. George was almost happy that Harry wasn't looking at him, so that he didn't have to see the haunted look in his friend's eyes.

Yes, everyone, it seemed, had cried during the funeral. Except George. George had just stared ahead and allowed himself to be taken over by that feeling, the one that feels as if you've gotten stuck halfway through disapparating.

In the casket, Fred hadn't looked like Fred. He'd looked to still, too small, too pale, too… _grave_.

"God… _damn_!" George hissed. Why couldn't he ever stop with the jokes? All other feelings had left him- he couldn't even produce a patronus- and yet, he still had his sense of humor. It plagued him like every casualty from that night plagued Harry. It made George sick. His twin was… was… _gone_ … and he was cracking jokes!

After the funeral, they'd left in waves; the rest of the Weasleys, plus Harry and Hermione, left last. Now it was just George.

"Hey, Fred," George whispered. "I, uh… I bet you're glad about the turnout today. Angelina was here. She was crying a lot… Hey- say 'hi' to my ear up there for me, will you?" George sighed.

"I made sure you were wearing your favorite robes. You know, the ones you wore to the opening of the joke shop. I put some Extendible Ears and a few Decoy Detonators in the pockets. Harry said he used one when he broke into the Ministry of Magic. I guess we really made our mark, right, Freddie?"

George coughed awkwardly.

"I… er… I miss you, Fred. I miss our jokes, and our pranks, and I miss running the shop with you. It's just not the same, Fred. It feels like someone's squeezing the air out of me every time I think about you, or I see something that reminds me of you- and, Fred, everything reminds me of you. And I can't eat. And I can't sleep. And I just keep thinking about that night, and about how one minute you were here joking with me, and the next you were gone. And I can't believe it. And I keep thinking that I'll wake up and you'll be here with me again, but you won't. You're gone. You were always with me. We went everywhere together, and now you're not here, and I can't take it! Fred, I love you. I love you so much. I miss you."

George paused.

"I bet you'll see a lot of people like me up there. 'Cuz I'm _holey_ , remember?"

George choked up at the last syllable, then collapsed on his twin's grave.

And for the first time since the war, George cried.


End file.
